Deep within this flute of bone
Within this drum of skin
There's a war that's rising up
A battle will begin.

A war which has no victims
A fight no one can lose
It is the conflict of the heart
The heart of the abused.

A warhorse in armor
A champion in chains
We have fallen VERY low
Blood coursing
Down our manes.

The stain upon the spoils
A crying crimson curse
To those who have abused us
The subjects of our verse.

We put pen to paper
With our dark puce ink
We aim our silver bullet
And make our reader THINK.

With tempered steel
swords we wield
The plunder of our youth
We, as valiant knights of old
Slay dragons with
The TRUTH!

How innocence was
brought to naught
Our soul a waxy taper
Guttering upon its sconce
Our hearts becoming vapor.

But the One who
fights the BEST
Has given me a lance
And so I fight...
so i write
He's given me a chance!

Strength, the very
atmosphere!
Courage as the air!
A living hell
becomes a well
Its ink is my despair...

O come! You demons
of the drought!
You minions of the mind!
You will try...
but you will DIE!
Your fate will be unkind!

I said there was no victor?
I'm telling truth, you see.
No one is truly vanquished...

The enemy was ME.

Cathy Jarvis
November 10, 2018
Revised March 21, 2019